Damon Makes a Mistake
by sleepwell
Summary: Damon screws up.  Without really planning to.  But still... Slash   Seasons One and Two: General Spoilers
1. Chapter 1

Well, _that_ had been a mistake. A colossal error in judgment. A faux pas of epic proportions. A perhaps insurmountable blunder. But, to be fair, it wasn't like he'd _planned_ it. There was no preconceived scheming on his part. No real conniving or forethought. It had kind of just happened. Innocently enough.

He had been lying in the dark. On Jeremy's unmade bed. Listening to Stefan and Elena having sex. In the next bedroom. OK. So that didn't sound so innocent. But it really had been.

He had needed to get out of the boarding house. Away from the staked 'original' in the cellar. Away from Katherine and her constant games. Her blatantly annoying, distracting efforts at seduction. Her pretense at wanting to 'help'. He had felt the need for peace and quiet. Rare for him. But necessary. So he had sought his brother. Tracked him to the Gilbert homestead. Only to find him engaged in doing the nasty with Elena.

Just what he needed. A further reminder of how his life sucked. How Stefan had, once again, managed to get a woman to fall in love with him. A woman that should have been _his, _not his lame ass, do-gooder brother's_._ Annoying was what it was. Downright irritating in fact.

Through the wall, he could hear Elena's blood surging, her soft cries. Listened to Stefan's random murmurs. His younger brother clearly didn't know what the hell he was doing. Apparently, despite all the years of practice, Stefan hadn't mastered the art of how to get a woman off properly. Not that Elena was complaining. But she damn well should be.

Their lovemaking seemed to go on and on. No climax in sight. Sighed. Realized he was bored. His life not only sucked, it was boring. Which was rather ironic. Considering everything that was happening at the moment. Werewolves. Isobel. John. Elijah. Katherine. The list of annoyances also went on and on, just like the sex taking place close by.

And what was _he_ doing for entertainment? Trying to find clues to their predicament in moldy, poorly written, hard to decipher journals. Oh yeah. And slurping on and having sex with a ninny. A beautiful reporter ninny, but a ninny nonetheless. Christ. He was pathetic. A mere shadow of his former glorious self.

Things had been much more exciting when he was roaming the world, picking up strangers, feeding, killing, causing shit. How _had_ he come to be living this pedestrian existence? Shacked up with his holier than thou brother and that she-devil vampire who had spurned him for said brother? Forced to protect the doppelganger (who, BTW, _also_ professed undying devotion for Saint Stefan). He sighed again. Even the potential of full out vamp-werewolf-original warfare wasn't doing it for him. Sighing yet again, he returned to his silent critique of Stefan's sadly lacking sexual technique.

The bedroom door was flung open, the hallway light momentarily blinding him. Quickly sitting up he saw the younger Gilbert start to enter the darkened room. Shit. This would be hard to explain. Looked around. And before the teen had even tossed his book bag onto the bed, he had ducked into the on suite washroom, praying that the door to the adjoining bedroom was closed. Which it was. Whew. Close call.

Peeking out, he observed the boy flicking on his computer. Bonnie's smiling, judgy face appeared. Jeremy's screensaver. Gag. Young Gilbert pulled his rather grungy looking T-shirt over his head and tossed it into a corner. Sat with his back to the washroom door. Over Jeremy's shoulder, he could see pictures. Naked pictures. Well. This was more like it. Little Jeremy Gilbert, surfing porn. Nice. The night had just become a little more interesting.

His eyes narrowed. Wait a minute. He had thought he was about to be subjected to _Wacky Witches Wank Wankers. org_ or something along that line. But _this_. This was unexpected. Naked men. With other naked men. Hmmm. Nice one. Elena's precious baby brother. Clearly into boy-on-boy action. Judging by the hand down the pants. The rocking hand motion. Fantastic! He would have rubbed his hands together with glee. If he was the hand-rubbing type.

And then. Not sure exactly how he did it. He must have moved slightly, unconsciously. And toppled the ridiculous metal drying frame. Which had been precariously placed in the narrow room. Right behind the door he had swung half shut. Shit. Well. _That_ racket would wake the dead. Or at least rouse the rabble. Caught his breath and held it. Glanced back and forth. Rapidly debated his next move. Elena's room. Jeremy's room. Made a snap decision. Stepped out of his hiding place into Jeremy's room.

And that started it. The beginning of his demise. The chain of events leading to the mistake that would change things forever. Crap. Because the worst thing about living with the consequences of your actions? For a vampire, that meant forever.


	2. Chapter 2

_I've been marking badly written science papers for the past two days and now am questioning my own writing abilities! So, thanks for the kind reviews and please let me know how this chapter works. And of course there will be sex, _**oranges-and-leather-boots**_, it just takes me a while to get there! _

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OK. So. If there was any finger pointing to be done, Elena should examine her own actions. Seriously. After all, who the hell puts a rickety, poorly constructed Ikea knock-off metal drying frame in a shared bathroom? What had she been thinking? That her hormonally driven teenage brother would stay away from her delicate undergarments? (Maybe that explained the male porn, the poor kid was traumatized) That Stefan would ignore the tiger print thong and pink frilly bowed bra while cleaning up after a sex romp? He'd never understood the need for women to display their personal effects in public places. Hence, if blame was to be placed for the discovery of him in the teen's bedroom, Elena should line up for her share.

But, that aside. He really shouldn't be contemplating Elena's intimate apparel laundry habits. He didn't have a lot of time. Any moment now Sir Stefan would be galloping to the rescue. Wanting to know what or who had dared disturb the peaceful evening festivities of the Gilbert homestead. Making sure that the mortals he loved were safe from otherworldly criminals.

Super speed was definitely an advantage in times like these. He moved to the opposite side of the room. Clicked off the potentially all-to-revealing website. Bonnie's smiling, know-it-all face once again filled the screen. Quickly perched on the edge of the desk. Spun the chair holding the startled Jeremy towards him. Picked up the nearest object. A large sketchbook. Opened it to the middle page. He could hear Damon starting to enter the room through the bathroom, stumbling over metal rods and underwear. Hissed, "Follow my lead." Glanced down at the penciled drawing. To see…..himself?

Not a bad rendering. He was smiling somewhat sardonically in the picture. Jeremy had accurately captured his handsome, devil-may-care demeanor and smokin' hot body. The boy had drawn him leaning against a wall, in profile. Nothing else in the frame. "Not too shabby" he drawled as Stefan entered the room. Flipped the page. Another portrayal of him. Well. Jeremy had definitely taken some liberties with this one. Considering the teen had drawn him _naked_. And he was pretty sure Jeremy had _never_ witnessed that magnificent sight.

"Jeremy. Are you alright?" asked Stefan in his best concerned voice. Clearly his younger brother had rushed with vampire speed into his pants, foregoing shirt or socks. His hair was as perfect as always. How _does_ he manage that? Is there like a 'no touching the hair even during sex' rule that the two had established? Or did Stefan actually take the time to fix his hair before he dashed off to save mortals in distress? Weird.

"Elena and I thought maybe someone had broken in. Or that you had hurt yourself. Accidentally of course" Stefan hastened to add. Jeremy remained still, sideways to Stefan, continuing to look a little stunned. Stefan turned his gaze. "And what the hell are _you_ doing here? " his brother practically snarled. "Feeling somewhat overdressed" Damon quipped, leering pointedly at the two shirtless males.

Stefan kept right on talking as Elena appeared behind him, appropriately attired in jeans and a T-shirt. "I thought you were babysitting Katherine. At the boarding house. I didn't hear you come in with Jeremy." "That's because I'm stealthy. And I'm here because Katherine was being ridiculous. I had to leave. And Jeremy wanted to show me his etchings." He arched an eyebrow as he held the sketchpad aloft. Revealing a serious yet lovely head shot of Elena. Her hair falling over one cheek. Her eyes dark and sad.

Elena walked around Stefan to her brother. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she reached for the sketchpad. "Ah ah ah. No. I don't think so." Wagging a finger at Elena, he held the book out of reach. "These are Jeremy's _private_ drawings. If he wants to show them to you, he can do so. At another time. This was a private showing. I happened to mention that I once met Henri Matisse. I also hung out with Andy Warhol for one 'wild and crazy summer'. So. We bonded. Over art. Now you two can go back to whatever it was you were doing before you so rudely interrupted us and let us finish our discussion on fauvism versus pop art." He waved his free hand dismissively at Stefan and Elena.

Who were now looking at Jeremy rather oddly. Probably realizing for the first time that the teen was acting like a fucking zombie. Not saying a word. Just sitting there, staring up at him rather blankly. Well. At least Jeremy no longer had a large, rather impressive, bulge in his jeans. That would have been 'harder' to explain away.

"Jeremy was just changing. His clothes. We were going to go catch that thing. You know." And to his surprise, Elena nodded. "Yeah. We're late for that too. Caroline texted me about half an hour ago to tell us to hurry up. I didn't know you were planning on going, Jer. That's great. We can go together. It'll be fun. We'll meet you downstairs in ten. Damon. You might want to wait for us in the living room."

This was working out rather well. He had no idea where the hell they were all going but, whatever. He certainly was no longer bored. And he couldn't _wait_ to get the kid alone. If the teenager ever came out of his apparent coma. "I'll pick up your tighty-whiteys in a moment, Elena" he called after the retreating couple, "Sorry about knocking your display stand over." He instantly questioned his wisdom at having drawn attention to the original source of this unexpected turn of events. Heard the sound of the adjoining door shutting over his apology.

He placed the notebook back on the desk. Returned to slowly turning the pages, revealing image after image of himself. All drawn in pencil. All drawn with great attention to detail. Sketches of him standing. Sitting. Reclining. Smiling. Scowling. Fangs out. Clothed. Partially clad. Naked. Always alone. Turning slightly, he placed a hand on the shoulder of the artist in question. "Well, young Gilbert, I think you and I need to have a chat."

Yep. He certainly didn't know when to just leave things alone. Damn Elena and her Victoria Secret push up bras. This was going to be all her fault.


	3. Chapter 3

_Wow. Thanks for the reviews and to all those reading along silently. This chapter was a bit challenging. Hopefully it sets up for some 'good stuff' to come! Let me know if it continues to hold your interest._

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Recap. Cooped up in boarding house. Babysitting Cruella de Ville. Going crazy. Needing brotherly contact. Waiting for said brother. In darkened bedroom of doppelganger's sibling. Practically forced to listen to less than stellar sex. Then. Unexpected entrance of aforementioned sibling. Hiding out in washroom. Avoiding detection. Inadvertently causing destruction. Fabrication of wild (yet totally believable) story to explain presence in Gilbert sanctuary. General awkwardness ensuing. Getting away with it.

Yep. That pretty much summed up the events so far. And, at that point, no major harm had been done. But he had to just keep pushing his luck.

His arm was shrugged off. Roughly. The teen spun his computer chair around, abruptly stood up and walked to the closet. Pulled out a shirt and began to put it on. Facing away. Probably embarrassed. Hell, he got that. He'd be embarrassed too if he'd been caught masturbating to grainy, badly shot, online porn. And then. Worse. To have a private obsession discovered. By the very object of his obsession. Yeah. Mortifying.

But his plan wasn't to humiliate the kid. No. Just to ask a few pointed questions. And to have ammunition for the next time young Gilbert pissed him off. Or when he needed a favour. Not to use these juicy tidbits as blackmail per se, but rather to…. His thoughts were interrupted. Jeremy began to speak, still not turning around.

"So. I was sitting there. Thinking. While you were blathering on. Listening to your bullshit story about us 'bonding over art.' Trying to figure out what the hell you were up to. Why you didn't show Elena the drawings. Or why you didn't leave the website up. That would be like you. To publicly mock. To embarrass me in front of my sister. So why didn't you?" The teenager didn't pause for an answer.

"Because it occurred to me. You were in the washroom when I came home. Or at least as I came into the room. Which means you were in the house for a bit. So. Seriously dude? Spying on your brother and Elena? And judging from the sounds I heard on my way by her door, you were getting an ear and possibly an eye full. You're really pretty sick, you know that? And, before you say anything, remember that your brother is, in all probability, listening to this "chat" you wanted to have."

Ouch. Nicely played. He had expected a red face. Stumbled explanations. Pleas for secrecy. But this? Going for the jugular. Taking the offensive rather than crumbling. Hadn't known the younger Gilbert had such balls. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He _had _seen indications of feistiness from the kid. And to be fair. What was he basing his impressions of Jeremy on? What had his interactions with Jeremy been to date?

Let's see. Killed the kid's first true love. Check. Wiped out the boy's memories. Check. Snapped Jeremy's neck after the teenager caught him practically raping his sister in a drunken state. Double check. The boy then threatening to 'out' him as a vampire and plotting to kill _him._ Check and a half. Good times.

But hadn't things been better between them lately? Jeremy had helped deal with Mason. And Tyler. And he had been instrumental in setting up Kathryn. Helping to land her in the tomb. (Unfortunately not forever, but that was hardly the kid's fault.) Shit. The younger Gilbert had seemed to be gaining confidence as of late. Had seemed more relaxed. Less…angsty.

Well. This certainly wasn't going as expected. Rubbed his chin. Seemed he'd lost the upper hand. Tried to recover. "Hmm. Elena's in the shower. So unless Stefan is in the washroom with her, his ear up to the door, he probably can't make out much of what we're saying. And I think hearing what _you've_ been up to might trump your revelation of _my_ voyeuristic tendencies. But. I don't care about any of that. " And, suddenly, it was true. He no longer felt the need to lord over Jeremy. To play mind games with him. Suddenly, he just wanted to hear the truth.

"I'm curious. Why have you been drawing me repeatedly? Don't get me wrong. I'm flattered. And your sketches are pretty good. Although you have a somewhat zealous over-interpretation of a certain aspect of my anatomy. But, seriously, why me? I thought you held me in a certain state of disregard. That, frankly, you think I'm a prick. So I'm interested as to the motivation behind your seeming fascination with me."

Jeremy turned slowly. Stared rather disdainfully at him. "You _are_ a prick. You're arrogant. Vain. Totally full of yourself. And you treat people like shit. People who care about you. People who _would_ care about you. If you let them. But you don't. Let people care. You make sure you alienate pretty much everyone. If someone starts to get too close, like Elena, you jerk them around. But lately. You've been helping out. Doing the 'right thing'. Why? Why are you playing at being the good guy when it's obvious it's hard for you? I asked you a while back if it was easier to go through life not caring. Do you remember what you told me? You said 'life sucks either way'. And that stuck with me. Because you're right. Life does suck. And I think you and I are a lot alike. We're both alone. We just do it differently. And so I started to draw you. To study how to push people away. To learn how to not care. To not feel angry or hurt."

Jeez. That was quite a speech. Jeremy waxing existential. Psychoanalyzing. Comparing the two of them. Forging a bond. It would be moving. Touching, in fact. If it wasn't total _bullshit_. He snarled. Crossed the room. Grabbed the boy by the shoulders. Stared into those dark, wide, condescending eyes. Leaned in and kissed that annoying mouth. Hard.


	4. Chapter 4

_Well, here's a short, but hopefully, sweet chapter! Let me know how it is!_

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He had meant to call Jeremy's bluff. To let him know that you don't bullshit a bullshitter. To make a point. The point that you don't obsessively draw someone's physical form in an effort to understand his _soul_. Especially when that nowhere near explains why you're also watching male porn. So. He had wanted to let Jeremy know that he was on to him. And. To see what Jeremy would do. How he would respond. Because he had been curious about _that_.

But all logic stopped the moment his lips hit. He couldn't have said what it was. What came over him. The instant he felt Jeremy's lips tighten, press together, seek to avoid the kiss. Even as Jeremy started to pull back, he leaned in. He didn't want to leave those lips. He wanted to part them, explore them, soften them into a welcome. He continued to search. To pursue that resistant, annoying yet amazing mouth.

He placed a hand behind Jeremy's head in an effort to pull the boy closer. He could smell the teenager. A mixture of that god-awful crap boys were wearing these days, sweat and something else. A heady, intoxicating scent. That was Jeremy. An aroma he had never really noticed. Until now. Because he clearly hadn't been paying attention.

Jeremy was no longer resisting. He was standing still, motionless, letting his mouth be explored, his hair caressed. His eyes had closed. His fists clenched.

And then. Jeremy sighed. Which parted his lips. And allowed entry. His tongue slowly, cautiously invaded the boy's mouth. Oh my god. Heat. Softness. Hardness. Jeremy's tongue against his. Caressing. Tangling. Teeth. Biting down. Gently pulling. Their tongues together. Seeking, exploring, sharing.

And then. Jeremy's hands. On him. Stroking him. Finding their way under his shirt. Running firmly along his back. His sides. Pulling him in. Closer. He could sense Jeremy's body heat. Smell his sweat. Hear his heart pump. Listen to his breathing quicken. Feel his body begin to tremble against his.

And then. He had groaned. Not Jeremy. He, Damon. Something he _never_ did. Because it was always his conquest who produced the noises. The guttural articulations of passion. Of lust. Of extreme physical pleasure. The sounds he was always secretly amused by. Because he was the source of those utterances. The one in control.

So what the hell was this? Why was _he_ the one moaning? Why were _his_ knees weak? Why was _he_ wanting this kiss to go on and on? And why didn't he care that he wasn't in control? This wasn't how this was supposed to have gone. He had been about to make a point. To let Jeremy know that he knew. Knew that Jeremy was into _him_. But now? He just wanted more of this. More of Jeremy.

He slid the hand supporting the boy's head. Down his neck. Along the length of his torso. Found the small of Jeremy's back. Spread his fingers. And pulled the boy in. Their hips colliding. The hardness of their cocks. Meeting. Touching between them. Straining for friction. For movement. For touch. This was going to be great. Beyond amazing.

"Jeremy. Are you nearly ready? We're leaving in a few minutes. Everyone's there already." 'Are you fucking kidding me?' was his first conscious thought. But the boy had already pulled away. His eyes open. Glazed. Staring at him. Waiting.

And he hadn't known what to do. What to say. For once. His mind still back on the kiss. The fusion of their bodies. How it had felt…. right. It had felt perfect. And he didn't wanted to wreck that. To ruin what had just transpired. By being glib. Or saying the wrong thing. But he did anyway. Wreck it. By _not_ responding. By not reassuring Jeremy that things were OK. Better than OK.

And in an instant, it was too late. The boy's faced closed. The familiar scornful smirk emerged. The eyes deadened. Jeremy brushed by him and headed out the door. Shit. Jeremy had been right. He really was a prick.


	5. Chapter 5

_Long A/N...So, I'm having real issues with tense. Flashback past tense is turning out to be much more challenging than expected! I alternate between wanting to edit and edit and edit in an attempt to get it right and pandering to those seductive reviews urging me to post soon! If it is really bothering anyone, let me know, and I promise I will take the time to turn out Pulitzer ready literature/grammar perfect work. However, if it's just the story you want, and the ultimate smut we all crave, then I'll just keep doing my best as I go! Let me know what you think, your reviews are everything._

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A new kind of torture. He thought he had experienced every type there was. But apparently not. Because this was definitely torture of a new variety. He had briefly contemplated returning to the boarding house. Back to Katherine. Her antics familiar, boring. Torturous in a manner that now seemed rather pedestrian. But he had instantaneously rejected that notion. He needed to be near Jeremy. Even if it meant subjecting himself to this new kind of torture.

Honestly, he couldn't figure it out. One minute the kid was just the annoying younger sibling of Elena. Next minute he was…. well, he was _Jeremy_. That stupid, spontaneous kiss had ruined everything. What the hell had he been _thinking_? That he would show Jeremy up. Let the kid know that _he_ knew how Jeremy actually felt about him. And to what end? To prove that he was a big jerk, who liked to make others feel like shit? But Jeremy had already known that. And he had proven it all over again. Even though he hadn't meant to.

But that kiss. That amazing, fantastic, wonderful, unexpected development of a kiss. And the rest of their 'encounter' (not really the right word to describe what had happened, he thought, but what word _could_ describe what had happened?) That fortuitous encounter had become something else. It had turned _everything_ into something else. Damn that kid. This was all his fault.

Turned out they were heading to The Grill. For yet another fundraiser. He honestly didn't understand the people of Mystic Falls. Their incessant need to raise money for this charity and the other. In his opinion, the entire town should simply hang on to their money and everyone would be just fine. Instead of just passing it around and around. Or put in a pre-arranged sum each year for city council to divide up. It would certainly save on the need to attend ridiculous events. Like this one. _Darts for Dysentery_. Or something like that.

The car ride had been hell. Sitting next to Jeremy in the backseat. Agony. The teenager had seemingly, within minutes of leaving the bedroom, developed a repulsion magnetic force field not to be contended with. Every time he had tried to move a body part closer to Jeremy, the younger male would pull away. Equal and opposite reaction. God. All he had wanted was to touch him. To reassure. To soothe.

But it was not to be. Jeremy had doggedly pulled away from his every effort to connect. The stubborn lad had resolutely stared out the window into the night. Had refused to acknowledge his presence. So. He had become frustrated. Growled. Tried to turn it into a cough. Caught Stefan's backward glance of puzzlement. Raised an eyebrow in response. Shrugged.

At the Grill. Jeremy had made a beeline for that witchy witch. Hugged her. Bleck. PDA. That had hurt. Turned out, the torturous car ride had been a warm up. For the torment yet to come. He had spent the next two hours at the bar. Drinking. Alone. Normally he drank to keep the need for human blood at bay. To dampen the urge to bite, suck, kill. The sound of surging arteries tempered only by the continual downing of cognac. Or scotch. Or whatever was in stock. That didn't completely mimic paint remover. But that night. He drank for human reasons.

And watched. Jeremy laughing. Jeremy talking. Jeremy with his arm around that _witch_. Jeremy whispering into her ear. Standing behind her. Showing her how to throw a dart. Hand over hand. _Pleeease_. What was she? A complete spaz? How obvious. He'd have rolled his eyes. If he was the eye rolling type.

"Damon" Elena practically shouted in his ear "Aren't you going to play? All the money goes to the local Crohn's Foundation. And you could win some great prizes." She had to be drunk herself. Since when had he been known for his philanthropy? His participation in inane social good-deed-doing? Unless there was something in it for him, of course. He had just wanted to get the hell out of there. Jeremy had made his point. He got it. Had turned to get up. Saw Jeremy head for the door. Hmmm…

He had abruptly pushed past Elena. In his hurry to follow Jeremy. Had ignored the hurt look on her face. Seriously. She should be used to his manner by now. Some called it 'rude'. He preferred to think of it as 'avoiding boring disguised as social convention'. Strode quickly but at human speed after the departing teenager.

Thinking rapidly the whole while. Why? Why was Jeremy going outside? Did he smoke cigarettes? He'd never seen the youngster with a butt. He certainly didn't smell like a smoker. Was he still getting high? Would he do that kind of thing alone, at public events? Had he fought with Wendy the Witch? Was she finally becoming as annoying to Jeremy as she was to him? Was Jeremy bored? Did he also hate darts? Was the teenager hoping he'd follow? Was he secretly hoping for a clandestine rendezvous?

And why did he care so much? This was becoming ridiculous. He sounded like a schoolgirl crushing on the captain of the football team. He'd be boiling the family rabbit next. If the families of Mystic Falls had pets. Which they didn't. Probably the result of too many vampires and werewolves running around.

But he digressed. What the hell had happened to him? How had he become so obsessed with Jeremy Gilbert? In such a short time. In _no_ time, really. Why did he feel this need to be near him? To get to know him? To understand him?

All of these questions. They were making his head hurt. Driving him crazy. He had to get himself under control. Before he did something stupid. Before he made a mistake of colossal proportions.

He had followed Jeremy's heady scent. Around the corner. Into the back alley. Had heard Jeremy. Trying to be quiet. Had seen Jeremy. In the darkness. Leaning against the brick wall. Motionless. He had approached noiselessly. Stopped. Faced the silent figure. Who was staring at him. Inscrutably.

His stomach sank. Realized he was fucked. Because this new torture? It was called 'loss of control'. He, who needed to be in control of every situation, wasn't. Jeremy was. So. He had waited. Suffering. Tortured. For Jeremy.


	6. Chapter 6

_OK. Finally. I had to watch the return of TVD, finish watching Season Two of Being Human (UK) and catch up with Season One Being Human (US). Oh, and United States of Tara started again as well! Too much to watch, too little time to write. Anyway, hope this chapter is OK and thanks for all who are reviewing. You keep this story alive!_

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Eternity. Nearly a century and a half hadn't prepared him for what eternity truly felt like. He had never felt this out of his depth. Unsure of what to expect. What to do. But he had known not to speak. To move. To reach out. He had known to let Jeremy lead. To give up control. If he ever _had_ control of this.

Their eyes had locked. Bodies still. He had listened to Jeremy breathing. Slowly. Deeply. Out of synch with the teenager's pounding heart. His sweating palms. The clenching fists. The darkness of the alley making Jeremy's eyes appear black. Expressionless. An eternity passed. And then. Finally.

"Why did you do that? Back at the house? Why did you kiss me? Were you making fun of me? 'Cause that's what if felt like. You were making fun of the stupid kid brother with a crush. And all that stuff I said. How I talked about watching you. Trying to figure you out. You think I'm an idiot. So. You don't have to rub it in. You can just leave me alone." He had stopped talking. Had stood there. Looking forlorn. Sad.

"No. You're wrong. I wasn't mocking you. I was at a loss. For words. Hard to believe, I know, but true. I didn't want to ruin things. Say the wrong thing. Because I usually do that. But then you left without giving me a chance. A chance to make it right. To tell you.." He had hesitated at that point, unsure of what to say. _How_ much to say. Christ, he hadn't wanted to freak the kid out.

"Tell me what?" Jeremy had asked. It had been hard to concentrate. Standing so close to that beautiful boy. All he had really wanted to do was drop to his knees. To not care that someone could round the corner at any moment. To revel in the risk. To get turned on by the possibility of being caught.

He had wanted to undo Jeremy's pant zipper with his teeth. Pull out that dick he had yet to get a glimpse of. Bury his face in Jeremy's scent. Suck him. So hard that Jeremy's hands would involuntarily reach for his hair. Tangle in it. Pull him closer. So that he could swallow all of him.

He wanted desperately to feel Jeremy grow harder and harder with each tug of his mouth. With each drawing up of lips, tongue. He wanted to hear Jeremy moan his name. Hear his breathing speed up. His heart quicken. He wanted those hips to rock that hot, pulsing cock further into his mouth with each thrust. He wanted to fondle those balls. To feel them become like smooth marbles with his touch. To know that Jeremy was close to coming. To hear the boy cry out as he fell over the brink. And he wanted to open his throat. Feel the burn of that salty, bitter-sweet liquid pouring down into him. To know that he could do that to Jeremy.

And after. He wanted to feel that ache in his throat for a few minutes. That soreness from having been fucked raw. To have swallowed cum. To feel human. Before he healed. He wanted Jeremy to pull him back up. To help him rise to his feet. To hold each other close. Because they both felt weak in the knees. He wanted to kiss the boy. To let Jeremy taste himself. To tell him that what had just happened had been fucking awesome. To tell Jeremy that he loved sucking him. Loved his taste. His smell. His touch. That he wanted more. More of Jeremy. The two of them. Naked. Skin to skin. Alone together.

But of course he hadn't done that. Because this was Jeremy's. Jeremy was the one who needed control. To be in charge of what would happen next between them. Or didn't happen. It needed to be up to Jeremy. So instead he had struggled for words.

"I wanted to tell you that whatever you want to happen between us can. That I'm OK with you being into me. Because I …." He hadn't been allowed to finish.

"Gee. Thanks." The boy's tone had been rather sarcastic. To say the least. "_You're OK with me being into you_. Wow. That's mighty big of you. Well, fuck you, Damon. And you can relax. Because I'm quickly getting over any stupid schoolboy crush I may have had. This is _exactly_ why I would never have done anything about my feelings for you. Because I knew you'd be a complete dick head about it all. And I was right. Could you please just walk away now? Leave me the hell alone. I totally want to forget this night ever happened."

Crap. He had known he would screw this up. And to make things even worse... Elena had just entered the alley. With Stefan in tow. Oh. And there behind them? Bonnie. Perfect.


	7. Chapter 7

_Finally! Darn posting problems! So, this story is nearly finished. Those who are familiar with my stories know that my chapters are usually pretty short. You are getting two in on today thanks to my lack of sleep and the troubles with publishing to the site. Hopefully you'll be able to review this chapter and, don't worry, the end is in sight!_

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Clandestine meetings in dark alleyways. Not really his thing. OK. So that was a big lie. He'd been known to do some of his best work in dark alleys. More like, gathering of the family clan in a dark alley. Not his thing. Especially when the 'family' included that witchy witch. All of them. Out for blood. _His_ blood. You'd think Jeremy was a helpless, wounded child the way everyone constantly rallied around him. Protected him. As if he wasn't able to look out for himself. The people in Jeremy's life seriously underestimated the lad's ability to stand up for himself. To fight back. As he, himself, was beginning to find out. Jeremy was _very_ capable.

And at that point in time. As 'The Avengers' rounded the corner. He could have left. Walked away. Jeremy only slighted wounded. He could have prevented the further unraveling of events. Avoided facing the consequences. The consequences of his mishap. But, yet again, he hadn't taken the proper course of action. He hadn't left. No. He had stayed. Because, despite Jeremy's words, he wanted to set things right between them.

"Jer, what is going on? What are you doing out here with _him_? We've been looking everywhere for you. You know it isn't really safe for you to be alone these days." Elena had advanced, reaching out for Jeremy. And then. Bonnie. "You said you were going to the washroom. When you didn't come back, I got worried. And then I noticed Damon had left. So I asked Elena and Stefan to help me look for you." And then. Stefan. "Damon. What are you up to? What's going on? This is the second time tonight you've been alone with Jeremy. Is there something happening we should _all_ know about?"

This was fucking ridiculous. Ludicrous, really. He glanced at Jeremy. Realized they were still facing each other. Jeremy leaning against the wall. His head thrown back. Eyes closed. The other three had reached them. Elena placed her hand on her brother's forearm. He threw it off. Not gently. Looked down at her sideways.

"You guys are being fucking ridiculous." Nice. That's exactly what_ he_ had been thinking. "It's none of your business what I'm doing. And who I'm with. And it's no big secretive vampire-thing. I've been gone, like, what, all of five minutes? And why are you assuming that Damon being with me is a bad thing, Bonnie? That he's automatically up to 'no good'? That he's '_been_ _alone' _with me? Stefan? Really? What the hell does that even _mean_? Seriously. You all need to get a life and leave me alone." Jeremy pushed off the wall, glowering.

This wasn't going well. Hell. He admired the kid. Liked his spunk. But he hadn't wanted Jeremy to leave. Without him. Without resolving things between them. He had reached out. Grabbed Jeremy by the elbow. Held him firmly. Stared into his eyes. Ignoring the others.

"Don't go. Without me. Let's go somewhere and talk. Where we can be alone. I want to explain. What I said just now. It didn't come out right. I told you. I don't say things well. I tend to offend. Without meaning to. Seriously. You've got the wrong idea." Jeremy was silent. So were the others. Their ears the size of Dumbo's. The expression on their faces. It'd be hilarious. Only it wasn't. He wished they were all locked up in the tomb.

He had sighed. Taken a deep breath. "Please. Jeremy. Just give me a chance to explain. Please." He couldn't remember ever having used that word once, let alone_ twice_, in a public conversation. Pleading. Not his style. It was flippin' humiliating. But it had been necessary.

Jeremy's eyes had narrowed. Shifted his gaze. Glared silently back at him. Then. His face had relaxed. A small, half grin appeared. "OK. But whatever you say. It had better be good. Because it's your **last** chance."

Nice. So they had left. Together. Side by side. Leaving a rather stunned looking trio staring after them.

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Deciding where to go. That had been tricky. Boarding house? Hell no. Not with the wicked witch of the west in residence. The Gilbert homestead? God no. Too many well intentioned but interfering females. And Stefan. So where then? The Grill? Too public. Coffee shop? Closed. Did this one horse town even have a hotel? Apparently it did. Jeremy gave the address to the taxi driver.

Sitting in the back seat. Together. Quite a different ride than the one earlier in the evening. Again side by side. Not speaking. Not touching. But the magnetic force field now reversed. Positive attraction. Electric sparks. An undercurrent of tension. Of the good kind. The trip had seemed to last forever. Another eternity to contend with.

The hotel clerk had been remarkably easy to compel. Like taking candy from a baby. As the saying goes. Last room on the end. Kitchenette. Satellite TV. Wireless internet. Free local calls. Sitting area. King sized bed. With a hideously red velour bedspread. And a massage feature.

Awkward silence had ensued. Jeremy stood in the center of the room. Arms crossed. His stance aiming for 'stern and aloof'. The result? Distractingly sexy. Jeremy's outward appearance was in stark contrast to his inner human workings. His heart. Practically pounding out of his chest. His sweat. Oozing from every pore on his body. His breath. Struggling to oxygenate his brain. Keep him on his feet.

It was adorable really. Sweet. Had to give the teenager props for that. Looking calm, cool and collected while inwardly quaking. The boy was apparently waiting. For him. To say something. To give it his best shot. To 'set things right'. Unbelievably he felt nervous. Hoped he didn't screw up. Again.

"OK. Here goes." He began to pace. Nervously. "I admit. I was surprised. By the drawings. I hadn't realized you've been watching me. I was flattered. And, in the beginning, it _did_ cross my mind that it could be useful information. That, along with the porn, I knew something about you that your sister and the others didn't. I don't know exactly what I was going to _do_ about what I'd seen. But I have to be honest. I found it amusing. A bit. Because everyone seems to have this opinion of you. They see you as this naïve, innocent, frail boy who needs protecting. Hell. Even I've bought into that at times. When you weren't annoying me. But your reaction to being found out was unexpected. No apologies. No pleading for clemency. Although you did try to pass it off as something other than lust. Still. It was gutsy. And then. I kissed you. _We_ kissed. I can't explain. But that kiss felt _right_. It felt good. More than good. Things fell into place. And that's what I was trying to say. That you being into me was OK. Because I'm into _you_. So it made me happy. That you were into me. Although maybe you aren't anymore. Because I'm an idiot."

Well. That had been a long speech. And the boy was still just standing there. With his arms crossed. Staring. Apparently thinking. Christ. Being staked would be less painful. Patience, he had told himself. Wait.

And then. Jeremy's lips on his. Jeremy's hands in his hair. Jeremy pushing him backwards until they both fell onto the bed. Jeremy on top of him. The weight of him. The warmth of him. Jeremy unbuttoning his shirt. Running a hand over his chest. Exploring. The hand moving lower. Unbuckling. Fumbling with the button of his pants. Slowly unzipping.

He grabbed Jeremy's hand as it dipped below the elastic of his briefs. "Have you ever? You know. Touched a guy?" He could practically feel the heat of Jeremy's blush. "Well. Not exactly. But, as you know, I have been watching instructional videos. And I touch myself. As you also know. _And_ I happen to be a guy. As you might also know." Funny. The kid was funny.

He took Jeremy's hand. Lowered it. Surrounded his erection with both their hands. Stroked. Slowly at first. Gently. Then, as the rate of their breathing increased, so did the speed of their hands. Intertwined. Moving together. Rocking into each other.

He couldn't remember separating. But their clothes were off. Thrown haphazardly around the room. The fugly bedspread a puddle on the floor. Cool sheets against hot flesh. They were both naked. Hard. Hands and mouths everywhere. God, he loved touching this boy. He needed to be closer. Needed to be buried in him.

He licked his index and middle fingers. Reached between the legs of the boy now beneath him. Between that perfectly formed crease. Found the small, puckered muscle of flesh. Pressed. Jeremy's eyes flew open. His lips fell away. What? Too fast? He hastily withdrew the offending digits. "Sorry. I'm moving too quick. I keep forgetting this is all new to you. Tell me what you want. What you want me to do. What _you_ want to do."

Jeremy had looked up at him. Oh my god. The tousled hair. Those gorgeous, sexy bedroom eyes. Those perfect, kissable lips. That hard, lean body. The feel of Jeremy's hard-on against his. The smell of this gorgeous human. It was indescribable. He hadn't felt this good in so long. In forever. He was barely holding on.

"Well," said Jeremy slowly, "What _I_ want is to fuck _you_." Yeah. Well that figured. It had all been going so well. It had been perfect, in fact. So it made sense that it was too good to be true. Yep. Because. That was _never_ going to happen.


	8. Chapter 8

_Second last chapter! It will be my longest story to date. So thanks to all who are reading along. And I do appreciate reviews, so keep them coming! _

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Hell. It wasn't as if he was _against_ bottoming in principle. After all, _someone_ had to be on the receiving end. And in the few instances he'd been with men, the _other_ _guy_ had always been more than happy to be that someone. But seriously? He simply couldn't picture himself as _that_ someone.

Probably due to serious control issues. To be honest, the idea itself wasn't entirely repugnant. The act itself might even be pleasurable. If the 'other guy's' reaction to getting fucked was anything to go by, it would seem that bottoming could be downright fantastic. But it wasn't for him. Again, probably due to serious control issues.

So this was a problem. A bit of a stumbling block. Jeremy Gilbert continued to surprise. Who would have thought he was a closet top? Just look at him. Jeremy Gilbert clearly oozed "fuck me".

Even now. Looking down at the teen. It was all he could do not to spread the kid's legs. Penetrate him. Fast and furiously. Why did this have to get complicated? And besides, how did Jeremy even _know_ he was a top? Christ. Gilbert had never even been with a guy. That online porn must have given him ideas. Very unfortunate ideas.

He propped himself on extended elbows. Stared into Jeremy's eyes. Tried to buy himself some time. "Reeally" he drawled slowly, "_You_ want to _fuck_ me. Nice. And here I thought you were a good boy. Well brought up. I would have expected dinner first. Flowers. Maybe a fine wine. Not a cheap hotel and a bar fridge. Tsk tsk. What _am_ I to you? A one-night stand? A quickie? A cheap fuck? Jeremy, I'm disappointed. I thought I meant more to you than that."

"Ha ha" responded the boy with sarcasm, "And _you_ aren't doing the same? Looking for a little action? A chance to get off? The opportunity to bang Elena's brother and tell her all about it? Right. Neither of us promised undying devotion. Feelings haven't even entered into this, Damon. You said you were into me. And I'm into you. Physical attraction. Pure and simple. So. What does it matter to you, then? Who's on top? As long as we both get out of this what we came in looking for. Sex."

Wow. That stung. Jeremy continually with the zingers. This kid was brutal with his verbal attacks. Almost as good as the master. (Meaning himself, of course) And the teen kept getting the wrong end of the stick. Hadn't he clearly told Jeremy that it was more than sex? That their kiss had felt 'right'? That he was happy Jeremy was into him? How could the boy then think it was _just_ about sex?

And then it hit him. Maybe it _was_ just about sex for Jeremy. Maybe it was _him_ that had got it wrong. Maybe the human was merely exploring. Trying different things. Wasn't that what all the kids were doing these days? Keeping their sexual options open?

Well. And here was the kicker. The reaction coming out of left field. A blow to the gut. Because right there and then, he decided it wasn't OK with him that Jeremy might just want his body. Unbelievable.

Over the years he had become accustomed to using others. Then discarding them when they were no longer of value. Or when they became a liability. By killing. Or leaving. And he had let himself be used as well on occasion. Because he hadn't cared. He had always figured that's what people did. Used and were used. But his time in Mystic Falls had begun to change that.

First with Stefan. Their sibling hatred and rivalry slowly turning into an understanding, a new-found respect. As much as Stefan continued to bug the shit out of him, he was beginning to trust that Stefan wasn't using him or trying to get the better him.

And Elena. He had come to love her. He loved her ability to find good in others. Her ability to trust. In him. Loved that despite all he had done to hurt her, despite her declaration of hatred for him, she continued to give him chance after chance. She had shown him that there was more to eternity than just existing.

Rose. Alaric. Caroline in her crazy way. Even Bonnie. Reminding him of his humanity. Evoking in him feelings that he had buried or ignored for decades. Not that he had become a kind, gentle vampire. Far from it. But he definitely had become something other than what he had been for a very long time.

Jeremy. The night had started out so differently. He could never have predicted that this is where it would end. With Jeremy. In a hotel room. The two of them naked. Debating who should be on top.

Even weirder. The _human_ demanding mindless sex. The _vampire _wanting more. Wanting an emotional connection. A sense that tonight was the beginning of something. The start of something good. Wanting to be wanted. Craving to be needed. Ironic.

So here it was. The moment in time when he made his huge mistake. His colossal error in judgment. The faux pas of epic proportions. The aforementioned potentially insurmountable blunder.

He leaned down. Whispered in Jeremy's ear. "I don't just want sex. I want you."


	9. Chapter 9

_OK. The final chapter. The Green Eyed Cat called this one for sure! I guess I'm done with writing __for now_ unless someone has an idea they'd like to work on together. Or, if you have a story idea that you want to float? A new pairing you'd like to see? I'm open to suggestions. Send me a message. I'm also thinking of sailing on over to the US version of Being Human now that *SPOILER ALERT* the UK Season Three of Being Human has broken my heart... Anyway, let me know what you think of this chapter. Thanks to all my faithful reviewers and to the many of you who have been reading along. 

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Even as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. _'I want you'_. What the hell had he been thinking? That was crazy. To let someone know how you were feeling. To show _Jeremy_ emotion. After all, he was a bad-ass vampire. He had a reputation to uphold. He didn't do vulnerability. If eternity had taught him anything, it was that showing weakness was strongly inadvisable. Never give the other person the upper hand. Or put words in someone's ear. Someone who could use those words against you.

Telling Jeremy how he felt had been a mistake. Now he would have to live with the consequences. And he wasn't sure he could. But, unless the other male was prepared to remove the vervain bracelet adorning his wrist, the words were out there. In perpetuity. For Jeremy to do with what he would.

Silence. A long silence. Listening to that pulsing artery so close to his ear. The blood surging erratically. So. What he said _had_ affected the boy. He just wasn't sure _how_. He lifted his head from Jeremy's neck. Where he would willingly have remained forever, buried in Jeremy's scent. Tasting the taste of Jeremy's sweat. Feeling the smoothness of Jeremy's skin. Surrounded by the perfection of him.

He looked down at the still face. The closed eyes. The smile lurking at the corners of closed lips. Fingers reached up to tousle his hair. "Oh, Damon" murmured Jeremy, "You only want what you can't have. It's the thrill of the chase that excites you. That holds your attention. The second you get your way, you're bored. Be honest. You'd be gone from this hotel room before our breathing had slowed if you fucked me. It's not really _me_ you want. You just want control. To _be _in control of the situation."

This kid was fucking annoying. And _mean_. He rolled off Jeremy. Lay on his back staring up at the water stained ceiling. Fine. Whatever.

Jeremy laughed. "I'm sorry" he said quietly, "Did I hurt your feelings? I was only being honest. About the way I see it. But I didn't think it would bother you. You never seem to care what others think. Or say." He decided not to respond to that lame attempt at placating.

He could feel Jeremy turn onto his side. Sensed him propping himself up on bended elbow. He felt Jeremy's fingers start to stroke along his chest. That felt nice. The fingers continued to explore. Lower. Jeremy grabbed his now rather limp dick (yeah, OK, the past few minutes had been a serious buzz kill) and began to pull.

The boy's ring rasping. The fingers tightening. The added friction causing him to get harder and harder with each draw of the wrist. His breathing began to quicken. Jeremy ducked and replaced his hand with his mouth. Oh my god. That mouth. That tongue. Sliding along the length of his cock. Sucking him in. Holding him and then releasing him. Repeating this glorious torture again and again.

He couldn't help it. His hips started to rise to match Jeremy's movements, to rock himself into the boy's mouth. Deeper. Faster. Christ. Jeremy's hand returned to his now throbbing cock. The boy began to kiss him along his torso, his neck, at last reaching his lips. He couldn't help it. He groaned into Jeremy's open mouth.

Jeremy was now on top. Chest to chest. Hip to hip. Grinding together. Finding a common rhythm, moving together. It quickly became not enough. It was as before. He needed to be closer. Closer to Jeremy. Emotions surged. What he had felt for Katherine. For Elena. Didn't compare to this desire threatening to overcome and incapacitate him.

He welcomed Jeremy's finger into his mouth. Sucked on it eagerly. Jeremy quickly replaced the finger with his tongue. Even better. Except now. The finger was probing between his legs. He felt Jeremy hesitate.

What the hell. He arched upwards, allowing Jeremy to slide his finger in. Wow. That was different. But it was…. OK. And then. Jeremy slid the finger out. And slid two in. Hmm. Decided that he might as well go with it. Arched again. And again. Because now it felt more than OK. It actually felt pretty fucking grrreat. Jeremy slid another finger in. Stretching, prodding, pushing back as his hips continued to buck into the splayed fingers.

He seriously was out of control. His body no longer requiring conscious thought. He was simply reacting. Allowing Jeremy to find that bundle of nerves he didn't even know existed. To finger him. To continue kissing him. He was biting down on Jeremy's tongue. Sucking on it gently. Pulling it into his mouth.

Shit. He was actually starting to pant. What the hell? This was frightening. Fantastic. Unbelievable. So when Jeremy removed those fingers, he felt a twinge of regret. He was so close to the edge. He could have come. But it was not to be. At least not yet.

Because Jeremy obviously had something else in mind. The boy's original game plan. And he no longer wanted to resist. He wanted to give Jeremy what he wanted. The cost of his mistake. He wanted to prove to Jeremy that he had meant what he had said. That this wasn't just about sex for him. Even if it meant giving up total control.

To give the boy credit. He asked. "Are you sure?" Jeremy whispered softly, speaking against his lips, "Are you sure you're OK with this?" He nodded. Scared to use his voice. In case he changed his mind. And then Jeremy was in him. And it was alright. The two of them. Joined. Jeremy waiting. Looking down at him from extended arms. He nodded. "Move" he ordered the boy. And Jeremy did.

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"Wow" Jeremy exclaimed. The teen collapsed onto him. Still hard. Still inside. "That was…..I can't even say what that was. That was pretty incredible. Are you OK?"

He unwrapped his legs from around the boy. Continued to hold Jeremy close with his arms. "Yeah, I'm OK. Or can't you feel that gunky mess between us? So, I'd say I'm actually more than OK."

Jeremy laughed and bent down to kiss his forehead. "I can't believe you actually let that happen. You are _so_ not a bottom. But I'm glad you did. For me, right? You did it for me. You'd never let anyone else fuck you, would you? Just me."

So maybe things were going to be all right. Maybe Jeremy would believe he wasn't going to get bored. That he didn't need to be in control when it came to being with Jeremy. That he could do this. That he, Damon, could care for someone. Even when that person wanted him in return. When it wasn't just about the chase. He wanted the chance to prove it. To prove it to Jeremy.

"Yeah," he said softly, "Just you, Jer. But. Even though it was, how'd you word it? 'Pretty incredible'? Yeah, as fantastic as it was, tell _anyone_ that I actually did that and I'll be forced to kill you. Ring or no ring. Got it?" Jeremy laughed again. Kissed him. "Got it."


End file.
